Priority: Palaven Redux
by Wyverne72
Summary: A slight reenvisioning of the Palaven mission from ME3. It just lacked the angsty je ne sais quoi of their meeting on Omega in ME2, so I fixed it. :P I also wanted to examine the subtext of the opening events on Earth and their effect on Shepard throughout the game in more detail. Rated M for language and explicit sexual content.
1. Repercussions

**A/N: My first attempt at fanfic. Please be gentle. I played a little bit with canon, but hopefully nothing too jarring. Lots of spoilers for ME3, mild ones for ME2 and Arrival DLC. Eventually 4 chapters. ****Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Mass Effect is property of Bioware. I do not own it, nor do I make any money from the writing of this fanfiction.  
**

* * *

Palaven glowed and shimmered in Menae's dark sky, erupting in fiery red explosions under the relentless Reaper onslaught. Shepard's more immediate focus, however, was on the Reapers who had found their way to the moon where the Turian forces were desperately trying to maintain some semblance of ordered resistance - the Reapers who were currently trying to keep her from her goal: reaching the new Primarch.

_First Earth, then Palaven. That can't be coincidence, _she thought as she dropped a marauder with heavy assault rifle fire. She had thwarted the Reapers easy course of invasion by preventing them from gaining control of the Citadel and taking out their scout, Sovereign, proving the Reapers were not invincible. When they tried to turn the delay to their advantage by using the Collectors to increase the strength of their army, she had put a stop to that, too. She further delayed the impending invasion by sacrificing a mass relay - along with an entire star system. At every turn she had proven herself a threat and in response they had targeted her home world. And if she was public enemy number one, Garrus Vakarian was running a very close second. He had been the first to willingly join her and had been at her side through it all, her dearest and most trusted friend. And they had come for him next.

Her heart bled to see Palaven alight in the sky above her, and she couldn't even think about Earth. It threatened to overwhelm her, and she had a mission. She couldn't afford to break. Not after all she'd been through. The Reapers had made a mistake though - not only had they failed to take out their two main targets, they had reunited them, fueling their lust for vengeance with attacks on their home planets.

She jammed a fresh heat sink into her rifle and rose up on one knee to clear the large rock she was using as cover. A few short bursts brought down a second marauder. She swung around to take aim at a cannibal, only to watch it collapse in a heap. Ducking down, she glanced over to a neighboring outcropping where Garrus was crouched. He met her eyes and bared his teeth in a terrifying parody of a human grin. He dragged one talon slowly down through the air, chalking up a kill. Chuckling to herself, she peered around her rock, seeking a fresh victim. A group of husks shambled toward Garrus's position. _Oh, it's on, Vakarian. Just like old times. _She fired up her biotics, propelling herself across the camp in an instant, sending them flying. _That never gets old_. She overloaded her shields, sending a burst of energy shooting out in a 360 degree radius, frying the husks to a biotic crisp. She turned back to Garrus, sketching five vertical lines in the air. He raised his mandibles, scowling playfully at her.

Shepard scanned the camp for more enemies. Seeing none, she removed her helmet and strode over to General Victus's post. She informed him of his new position as Primarch and waited while he said goodbye to his men. She started over to Garrus. She was still recovering from the shock of finding him here on Menae. She had hoped for exactly that, of course; in fact, she had resolved not to leave Palaven without learning his whereabouts, dead or alive. After narrowly surviving the Collector base, things had been awkward between them, and she was to blame. Facing a possible court-martial, not knowing how long she may be stuck on Earth under Alliance surveillance, she couldn't bring herself to tell Garrus how much their night together had meant to her. However he responded to such a confession would make her sentence that much more unbearable. Why subject them both to all that emotional turmoil when they may never see each other again? So she had selfishly avoided him, perpetuating the myth that she had, in fact, just needed to 'blow off steam'. There was certainly no shortage of distractions, what with the repairs to the Normandy, farewells to the crew, and of course, an endless flurry of emails and reports. Commander Shepard, slayer of Reapers and conqueror of death, afraid of revealing her feelings to her extra-terrestrial boyfriend. _Well, no more distractions here. Take your balls out of your purse and talk to him already. _Jack did have her moments.

A sudden flash of movement drew her attention. Something streaked through the air to land in the soft ground with a muffled thud, directly in front of - a turian child? Shepard's mind raced. It was a concussive grenade, as best she could guess, and child or not, the small turian was wearing no armor and the blast would at best shatter his plating. At worst...

She was running before she had even finished processing the situation. Where a turian boy had come from was immaterial. _Not one more child, _she thought, _not one more child will die that I had the power to save.  
_

* * *

Garrus saw Shepard walking toward him and felt his grip tighten on his rifle. He hadn't seen her since just after the mission to the Omega 4 relay. They'd all had a brief toast to being alive back on the Normandy, then everyone had gone their separate ways. Shepard was adamant that she had to return to Earth to hand herself over to the Alliance for her part in the loss of that batarian colony. He maintained that she had played very little part; had those idiots not been playing around with live Reapers, Kenson would have initiated the crash. Shepard's involvement was incidental, her actions necessary. Of course, being Shepard, all she could focus on were the lives those actions had cost.

He hadn't known how - or even if - to approach her after their brief night together. They hadn't really talked things through; impending doom had kept them focused on more immediate needs. He had offered to return to Earth with her, to speak on her behalf, but she had refused. He could help her best, she said, by going to Palaven and trying to muster whatever support he could for the coming fight against the Reapers. So he had come home.

But now, here they were, with at least some kind of future together, however short it may prove to be, and how - or even if - their relationship fit into that future would have to be addressed. He had assumed their paths would cross eventually, maybe coordinating strategy, she on Earth, he on Palaven, but then he had found her standing with Corinthus here on Menae. His whole body had been crying out to pull her into his arms and bury his face in her weird, amazing smelling hair, to let her know that his heart was, irretrievably, hers. Under the circumstances, a simple handshake and noncommittal greeting had had to suffice. Maybe now they could steal a few moments alone and he could get a better read on her feelings.

Suddenly, she hesitated in her stride, then she was running away. A stray thought passed through his mind that she must be even more nervous than he was at their unexpected reunion, then he realized she wasn't running away from him but toward...

He saw the boy, the grenade at his feet and whirled around to find its source. His keen gaze fell on the lone cannibal, his rifle at his shoulder faster than thought, a round buried in its head a moment later as it fell to the ground. _It must've been wounded, _he thought. _Had just enough energy to lob one last grenade._ That could explain why they had missed it earlier. He quickly turned back to Shepard and his breath caught as he watched her hurl herself on the explosive.

* * *

Shepard reached the boy, her barrier swathing her in a pulsing blue biotic field, and shoved him as hard as she could. He stumbled a few feet and fell backwards, staring wide-eyed at her. _Not far enough to clear the blast radius_. With one quick thought to her lack of helmet, she threw herself down to cover the grenade, feeling it sink several inches into the loose soil under her weight. _Let's see how tough they make this N7 armor_, she thought wryly, hoping fervently that her barrier might just keep her head from imploding. Then her body was crushed in a vice-like pressure and everything went black.

* * *

The detonation was muffled - he felt it more than heard it - and Shepard's body was lifted several inches off the ground. He was beside her in a flash, kneeling down by her limp form, gingerly trying to assess her injuries. But he was afraid to move her and he had no clue what he was doing anyway. Basic field triage didn't really cover this sort of thing. He stared down at her helplessly, vaguely aware of James radioing the Normandy for an emergency medical evac. Through his blurred vision he saw that she was covered in a thin layer of dust. Dark bruises were already rising on the exposed skin of her face and neck. _Not a good sign. _He reached out and softly touched her cheek with a blunted talon. _Shepard_.

He closed his eyes as images of that night before the relay flooded his consciousness. Deep gashes along her back and sides. Her skin, her sheets, smeared with bright red blood. Shepard shrugging it off, citing her Cerberus upgrades and the magic of medigel. None of it assuaging his guilt and horror. He was supposed to make sure her blood remained where it belonged, in her veins, not spill it in some kind of orgasmic frenzy. Turians were known for getting a little rough on occasion, but drawing blood crossed a line, even for them. Since then, keeping his talons filed down for her was a habit he hadn't been able to break, even after all their time apart, despite the barrage of ridicule he'd had to endure on his return to Palaven. Giving it up meant admitting he had given up hope of ever being with her again.

The evac team arrived. Liara had returned, along with Dr. Chakwas. He had no idea how much time had elapsed. He rose and reluctantly moved off to the side to allow access to the people who could actually _do _something. His lack of control over the situation was making him physically ill, his stomach roiling. Not just from helplessness. From fear_._ Fear of watching her die, again. A turian was trained to take fear and turn it to anger. Fear was paralyzing; anger was catalyzing.

A small movement drew his gaze to the boy who was pushing himself up to his knees. Whatever minor ill effects he may have felt from the explosion, if any, seemed to have already passed. He was staring at Shepard, making a distressed keening noise deep in his chest. In three long strides Garrus was in front of the boy, grabbing him by the shoulders and pulling him roughly to his feet.

"What are you doing here? What were you thinking?" he growled. Not pausing to give the child time to answer, he started dragging him by the arm to the row of metal huts where General Victus and several of his men were standing, solemnly watching the scene. He thrust the boy toward them, making him stumble and fall back to his knees.

"Who does this child belong to?" he demanded, his voice dangerously soft.

General Victus cleared his throat. "He's Corinthus's son, Toren. He must've wandered away from their quarters and onto the field. He's a just a boy, curious about battle." Garrus's cold glare turned even icier. "I'm ... I'm sorry, Garrus. It was a horrible accident. But please don't take it out on the child."

Garrus closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Somewhere through his anguish he recognized the sense of the General's words. _Shepard may have given her life for this boy. She felt him precious enough to protect._ _I must protect him, too._

"I don't plan to take it out on the boy, Victus. Where is Corinthus?"

Victus held Garrus's gaze for a long minute. His advisor was clearly agitated and a confrontation could quickly turn physical. With his new diplomatic post requiring his departure and Garrus certainly planning on rejoining his human commander, Corinthus was needed here more than ever. But factoring in the way Garrus had talked about this Shepard, his blunted talons and his reaction to her injury, he would clearly not be denied.

"I'll get him here, Garrus," he said, activating his omni-tool. "Corinthus, Victus here. We found your boy."

"He's there? Is he all right?" Corinthus's voice was strained.

"Yes, he's fine, but there's been ... an incident. He's a bit shaken up. You should come get him."

Corinthus sighed with relief. "He got out of our hut somehow. I was hoping he might have headed to you. I'm already on my way. Corinthus out."

During this brief exchange, Garrus had helped Toren back up and dusted him off. Then he rounded on Victus. "You knew about this? You allowed it?"

Victus squared his shoulders. "Yes, Garrus, I knew. Look up there. Palaven is burning. You may believe it was irresponsible to allow Corinthus to bring his only son here. I believe it would have been irresponsible not to."

Garrus winced. It was rare for turians on active military duty to have children. It was rarer still for lifers like Corinthus to have a family. Being a good husband and father and a good soldier were often mutually exclusive, and turians didn't do things halfway. Garrus looked at Toren, who had recovered from his initial shock. He stood straight, gaze steady and fearless, trying so hard to be brave. Garrus had never been good at estimating children's ages, but he couldn't be more than seven. All at once, Garrus felt his sustaining anger drain out of him. Squatting down, he placed a hand on the young turian's shoulder.

"Where's your mother?" he asked gently. The boy visibly deflated, dropping his gaze and starting to shake slightly. "Never mind," Garrus whispered. "I understand." He started to stand, but Toren pulled at his arm.

"Will she be all right?" he asked in a tremulous voice, glancing over to the commotion still centered on the small, newly formed crater.

"Who, Shepard?" Garrus couldn't help the small catch in his voice at her name. "She's stronger than anyone I've ever known. She'll be fine." He tried his best to sound confident and reassuring, but saw his own fear mirrored in Toren's eyes.

"Tor?" A slightly winded Corinthus stepped up next to them and placed a hand on his son's head. Garrus stood and backed off a few paces as Toren began haltingly telling his father everything that had happened. All the guilt and accusations Garrus had been burning to lay at Corinthus's feet just moments before seemed irrelevant, now. _'Why did you bring your seven year old to a contested moon?' 'Why wasn't he adequately secured in your barracks?' 'Why would a career general even have a child in the first place?' 'You may well be responsible for dooming the galaxy.'_ The situation was what is was and if not Toren, it might very well have been James or Victus or Garrus himself that Shepard would have put her life at risk for. She had done it before, and would no doubt do it again. It was what she did; it was one of the many things he loved about her.

Liara came up beside him. "They've stabilized her and want to bring her back up to the med bay." Garrus nodded in response. She turned, raising her voice slightly. "Primarch, it would be best if we left as soon as possible."

Victus nodded, said a few last parting words to his men, and headed over to the waiting shuttle. Garrus walked back to the general and his son, still hashing out all that had transpired.

"I'm sorry, sir," Toren finished breathlessly, with a touching sincerity.

"I know, son. From now on, you need to stay in our barracks. You understand how important that is now, I hope?"

"Yes, sir," Toren replied, nodding vigorously.

"Good," Corinthus huffed, giving his son a pat on the shoulder. "Garrus, how is Commander Shepard?"

"They have her stabilized."

"Good, good." Corinthus shifted his weight uneasily. "Garrus, I'm sorry." His voice was pained. "Tell her I'm so sorry."

Garrus nodded curtly. "Keep him safe."

Corinthus glanced briefly down at Toren with surprise. "I will, Garrus."

There was nothing more to say. Garrus turned and headed for the shuttle, anxious to leave this moon behind, to return to where he truly belonged.


	2. Recuperation

The shuttle was a tight fit with the medical team, the stretcher, the Primarch and himself as added passengers. He was able to get a closer look at Shepard, though. They had left her armor on, and there was a large dent right about at her stomach, offset just to the left, where it had imploded from the pressure of the explosion. Aside from the splotches of discoloration on her exposed skin, that was the only visible damage. But the fact that they had not removed her armor meant they may be worried about internal injuries...

He forced himself to stop his pointless speculations. He desperately wanted to ask Dr. Chakwas about Shepard's condition, but she was busy monitoring the commander's vitals, and he thought it best not to disturb her. He squeezed into a seat in the rear of the shuttle and leaned back with a heavy sigh. Liara slid in next to him, and they rode back to the Normandy in companionable silence.

* * *

Stepping off the shuttle into the Normandy's new armory, he was assailed by smells that, while alien, were comfortingly familiar. He started to follow the stretcher into the elevator. There was only room for one passenger in addition to the med team. James tried to muscle his way on, but Liara held him back. He started to protest, but her firm gaze and small shake of her head held him back. Garrus continued on, flashing Liara a grateful look.

Once in the elevator, Chakwas turned to him, placing a sympathetic hand on his arm. "We'll need to work undisturbed for a while. Luckily for Shepard, it seems it was a concussive grenade, and the ground absorbed much of the impact. Odds are she's sustained a fairly severe concussion, and removing the armor may reveal some issues we'll have to deal with, but I don't expect anything life-threatening. As soon as we have her patched up and settled, you can sit with her as long as you like."

He couldn't tear his gaze away from Shepard, but nodded, swallowing hard. She tightened her grip on his arm, leaning forward and forcing him to look her in the eyes. "She'll be all right, Garrus."

Something in her tone led Garrus to wonder if the entire ex-Cerberus crew knew about him and Shepard. He sensed Liara did, but she and Shepard were very close and Liara was extremely perceptive - also, the Shadow Broker. Mordin had known, of course. But if Chakwas knew...

"Thank you," he managed to stammer. The elevator door opened on the third floor and he watched them carry his commander into the med bay.

He found himself in front of the door to the main battery. _Old habits die hard. _He needed to keep occupied; waiting would drive him crazy. He opened the door and stepped inside. For a moment, he just leaned against the console, losing himself in the scent of humans and gun oil and the memories they evoked. Then, with a deep sigh, he began calibrating.

* * *

He'd been working for only a short time when everything suddenly went dark. Before he could react, the power whirred back on. Everything seemed normal, and he resumed his work. But even the mental exercise of his calculations, which he could usually rely on to restore balance and focus to his thoughts, wasn't enough to completely distract him this time. So when Dr. Chakwas finally hailed him on his omni-tool, he huffed with relief and hurried down to the med bay.

Chakwas looked up from from her datapad as he entered. "We have her resting comfortably. I'm keeping her sedated to allow her to recover from her concussion. Aside from that, she has three broken ribs and some bruising on her head, neck and stomach, but her armor and biotics protected her surprisingly well. I'd like another two days to monitor her, but after that, she should be well on her way to recovery - her ribs will still be a little sore, and it will take time for those bruises to completely fade, but really, it's a best case scenario, given the situation."

She indicated a chair next to Shepard's bed at the far end of the med bay, then walked back to her desk. As Garrus took his seat, his brain finally finished processing. _Spirits, she's going to be all right_. He soaked in the sight of her. He had never really had the opportunity to just watch her sleep. They had dressed her in a thin hospital gown. The short sleeves left her arms bare. Garrus removed one of his gloves and tentatively stroked his fingers along the closer one, feeling that fine, soft hair that covered humans' bodies.

As his anxiety began to fade, so did his focus, and his mind began to wander. Hair. Along with those strangely protruding ears, it was humanity's most recognizable unique trait. _Unless you're sleeping with one, _he chuckled to himself. _They have much, much more to offer. _Like their oral fixation. He had heard of the ways humans liked to use their mouths during sex, and yes, he had watched some vids - for research purposes - but nothing could have prepared him for the pleasure of Shepard's mouth enveloping him. The asari, while physically capable of the act, generally dismissed it as primitive and preferred to rely on their ability to meld nervous systems for stimulating their partners. Much more sophisticated, much less messy. But there was something so primal and, well, initimate about it - he felt his lower plates begin to shift and tried to suppressed the memory.

When humans had first arrived on the galactic scene, many had found them a slightly less alluring version of the asari. Their facial structure and basic body shape were very similar, at least in the case of human females. But they certainly weren't identical. His (albeit limited) firsthand familiarity with a human female and more extensive but removed - and uncomfortable - experiences with asari had allowed him to make some fine distinctions. Back in his C-Sec days, his fellow officers would sometimes drag him along to Chora's Den, where he would be forced to feign interest in the asari "dancers". Once or twice, when the alcohol had flowed especially freely, they had ended up in one of the private back rooms. So he had gleaned this much: Asari skin was firmer, always cool, and had a tacky, rubbery feel. And their breasts were made of cartilage, and didn't move or give to speak of. Many people appreciated this...tautness. He, on the other hand, had become totally infatuated with the warm, silky softness of humans. Well, one human, anyway.

He watched her chest rhythmically rise and fall, and the knowledge that, at least for the foreseeable future, it would continue to do so allowed him to relax, rest his head on the edge of the bed - carefully keeping clear of broken ribs - and drift into a sound sleep.

* * *

"Garrus? Garrus."

He cracked one eye open experimentally. Ah, yes, the med bay. He raised his head slightly, eyes roaming slowly upward. _Still breathing_. Sitting up, he focused on the form of Dr. Chakwas standing over him.

"Garrus. You need to eat something. You've been here all day."

"I'm all right. I'm not hungry," he mumbled sleepily, just as his stomach gave a loud growl. _Traitor._ Chakwas raised an eyebrow at him. He threw up his hands in defeat. "I'm going, I'm going."

He stood, grabbing the glove still lying on the edge of the bed, now slightly damp with drool, and headed out to the mess.

"Oh, and Garrus," the doctor called after him, "You may want to show the Primarch around while you're up."

Garrus nearly stumbled. _Crap. The Primarch._ With Shepard injured, he'd likely been lost in the shuffle. As the other turian on board, Garrus probably should have picked up the slack there. _Shepard will kill me if we lose the support of the only race to even hint at offering any because I insisted on sitting impotently at her bedside while the Primarch twiddled his thumbs._ He shook his head; he was being silly. Until this morning, Victus had been military, used to boredom and certainly not accustomed to full-blown diplomatic niceties. His stomach growled again. He followed the faint sound of laughter deeper into the mess area, stopping short as he caught sight of Liara, James and Victus dining and chatting together like old friends.

"Ah, Garrus!" Victus exclaimed, looking up from his meal. "How's the Commander?"

"Dr. Chakwas says she'll be fine in a couple of days. Just needs some rest."

"Excellent. Good to hear. Come and join us." His flared his mandibles happily. "They have dextro-compatible food and it's really quite good." The compliment was only slightly spoiled by his adding, "For a human ship."

Garrus approached the mess officer. "I hear you have some decent dextro-friendly food?"

The officer puffed out his chest. "Yes, sir! I mean, the Primarch expressed his satisfaction. I wouldn't be able to vouch for it, myself." He assembled a plate as he talked. Garrus recognized it as a choice cut of _rokin_, a popular turian game animal (and a personal favorite of Garrus's), with a side of fried insects which were a turian delicacy, all smothered in a savory gravy. It smelled delicious. It was a far cry from the bland, monochromatic dextro-food that Cerberus used to stock.

"Well it certainly looks fantastic," he replied as he eagerly took the plate. "Specially requisitioned for the Primarch's visit, I take it?"

"Nope, dextro rations are standard and to be maintained at all times. Commander's orders. Issued as soon as she arrived on board."

Garrus nodded thoughtfully, weighing the implications of this new nugget of information, and returned to the table. He sat across from Victus and attacked his food with wild, predatory abandon while James looked on in admiration. Garrus noted absently that James was eating something he was pretty sure was pizza. He knew this because in many of the human "research" vids he'd watched, the man often arrived at the female's door with an offering of pizza. The women in the vids seemed to like it. A lot. He wondered if he should bring Shepard a pizza the next time - if there was a next time, of course. He preferred the turian-human vids, but there weren't as many of those, and a lot of what there was involved working out prejudices dating back to the Relay 314 Incident. But seeing those hard plates pressing against smooth, soft skin...

_Focus, Garrus._ He tried to tune in to the conversation that had proceeded around him while he took the edge off of his hunger. He looked up from his plate, pausing momentarily from shoveling food into his face. Victus, taking this as a cue to include Garrus in the discussion, turned to address him.

"Liara has been kind enough to show me around the ship and generally keep me entertained."

_Liara to the rescue once again._ He would have to buy her a drink. "I have to apologize, Primarch, for not joining you earlier."

"Not to worry, Garrus. Liara mentioned you had some important calibrating to do."

Victus seemed earnest enough, but Liara was clearly holding back laughter, trying not to choke on her food. She hadn't even been on the Normandy since he had taken over the main battery! He may have to rethink that drink.

"You missed all the excitement, man," James interjected.

Garrus swallowed another mouthful. "Excitement?"

"Yeah, didn't you notice the power surge?"

"Yes, actually. It interrupted my _calibrations_." He glared at Liara. The emphasis on the final word was intended to be chastisingly menacing, but she only convulsed in another wave of barely contained laughter.

"Power went off on the whole ship. When it came back on, EDI was offline. Liara and I went down to the AI core. Get this - EDI has taken over Dr. Eva's body!"

Garrus looked questioningly at Liara. "Dr. Eva was a synthetic - a Cerberus AI who infiltrated the Mars archives and gave them a back door into the facility. She almost got away with information that may prove vital to defeating the Reapers. James, um ... intercepted her with the Kodiak. When Kaidan went to investigate, she grabbed him and seriously wounded him before Shepard could disable her."

"Yeah, it's been quite the streak of massive head wounds around here," James added dourly.

_Kaidan_. Garrus was glad he'd finished his dinner, because the mention of Kaidan's name ruined his appetite.

Liara hurried on, sensing his distaste. "We brought Eva back to the ship and locked her in the AI core. She apparently managed to reboot and attempted to hack Normandy's systems. EDI intercepted her and was able to download part of herself into the Eva module. There was an interruption in the power flow during the transition, but EDI quickly resumed control and now has a mobile combat unit."

"Yeah," James chimed in, "and it's pretty hot."

Liara smirked. "Yes. We invited Joker to join us for dinner, but he ... politely declined. He said he wanted to help EDI acclimate to her new body."

"Right. Acclimate," grinned James lewdly, making air quotes.

Garrus wasn't at all sure that Shepard would be too pleased to have a synthetic aboard her ship that until a few hours ago had been under Cerberus control. It wasn't really his call, though, and the only thing to have gotten the better of EDI thus far had been the superior technology of the Reapers. He trusted her - that would have to do until Shepard woke up.

Victus rose. "Well, it's been a long, eventful day. Thank you very much for your company. I'm going to turn in."

James offered to show him to his quarters. Liara excused herself to return to her research into the Prothean data they had recovered on Mars.

Left to his own devices, Garrus stopped by the med bay to check on Shepard and say good night to Chakwas. He wasn't sure what to do about sleeping arrangements; he used to have a small, uncomfortable cot in the battery that he had found and dragged in from the cargo hold. He decided to head back and scout it out. He was sure the Alliance had removed it, but then, he hadn't gotten beyond the console station earlier. Maybe he'd be in luck and they'd have missed it. If nothing else, he could stretch out on a couch in the lounge for the night and scrounge up a new mattress tomorrow. At least it would give him something to do.

His cot had indeed been removed. In its place, however, was a real, fully framed bed. And not just a standard issue Alliance bed, but a model specifically designed for a turian, with contours for his carapace, leg spurs and hips, to allow him to rest his head on his pillow even when lying on his back and to support his waist.

He began removing his armor, anxious to try out his new accomodations. This could only be Shepard's doing. She must have put it here before she even knew if they would find each other - or even if he was still alive. _That's got to be a good sign_, he thought as he settled into the mattress with a contented sigh.

* * *

He managed to keep busy the next day, checking regularly on Shepard, reminiscing about the old Mako with Cortez, and playing chess with Victus. Chess had become very popular among turians, despite its human origins, because of its militaristic overtones and the painstaking, ruthless strategizing it took to win.

He had lunch with Liara and visited her office - experiencing only a slight pang of jealousy at the sight of a large, luxurious looking bed tucked in the back vestibule. He stopped by the bridge, trading barbs with Joker and getting acquainted with EDI's new ... format.

By day's end, he had managed to reacquaint himself with the ship and everyone on board. With everyone, that is, but the one person he needed to most. That night he lay awake, worrying what might happen when she woke. Dextro food and a comfy bed didn't mean she was desperately in love with him; she took care of her crew and her friends. Liara had a bed, after all. Hell, that annoying reporter down in the cargo bay had a damn bed. He had been so sure he had sensed something more than friendship from her... of course, then he'd gone and quite literally ripped her to shreds... He rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands. This endless speculation was getting him nowhere. And until Shepard regained consciousness, speculation was all he had. All he could do was what he always did. Hope for the best, expect the worst.


	3. Revelations

**A/N: To anyone who may have read the first two chapters before 7/22/12: I realized that the nice little rows of asterisks I'd inserted to indicate change of perspective and time lapses got deleted when I uploaded my story. I have since gone back and put in line breaks, so hopefully those chapters are now a little more organized and easier to follow. Sincere apologies that I didn't catch that sooner.**

Progress update: I am still in the process of writing the last chapter. I'm at the last bit, and I know where I want to go, but it may take me a little longer to figure out how to get there. Therefore it may take just a little tiny bit longer for the last update, but please know I'm working on it feverishly, and will post it ASAP. I beg patience, and will do my best to make sure it's worth the wait.

**Finally, thankyouthankyouthankyou to everyone who has followed/favorited/reviewed this story. It truly means a lot and I cherish every one!  
**

**Without further ado: chapter three...  
**

* * *

The following morning he lingered in the mess hall after breakfast, waiting for Chakwas to call him into the med bay, pacing back and forth outside the door. At long last, he heard the door whoosh open.

"Garrus, for pity's sake, come in," she said with an exasperated shake of her head. "I'm almost ready to stop her sedatives anyway."

He thanked her sheepishly and resumed his place at Shepard's bedside as Chakwas walked over, checked some statistics on her datapad, and clamped off the IV drip.

"It may take up to half an hour for her to regain consciousness, and she may be a little loopy from the lingering dose in her system. I'll be right over there at my desk if you need me."

Garrus nodded and settled in to wait.

* * *

Consciousness arrived in waves. Sensory data came first. The quiet whirring she immediately identified as the Normandy's engines. The sterile, slightly acrid odor placed her in the med bay. But there was something else mixed into the medicinal smell ... the faint aroma of forest, spices, guns... She opened her eyes, eyelids fluttering against the stinging light. She turned her head, which felt like it had been stuffed with cotton, until a turian-shaped blob came into her field of vision. Her eyes slowly focused.

"Garrus." Her voice sounded raspy and far away. She tried to smile, but her face seemed tight. Then the wave of memories crashed into her. She tensed and grabbed Garrus's arm.

"The boy -"

"He's fine, Shepard. Not a scratch on him. Which, by the way, is more than I can say for you."

She let out a sigh of relief, noting the slight discomfort that now seemed to accompany breathing. "All right, Garrus, how bad is it?"

"Hell, Shepard, you were always ugly. Slap some make-up on there and no one will even notice."

She started to laugh, then winced at the pain in her face and side. "Ow, don't make me laugh."

"Don't think you'll get any sexy scars out of the deal, though." A chuckle rumbled deep in his chest, but she recognized the pain in his eyes. She'd felt it herself, back on Omega, watching blue blood pooling around his body.

His voice softened. "Guess you're one up on me in near-death experiences."

"Well, technically, we're even on near-death experiences. I'm still one up on actual-death experiences, though," she joked lamely, managing a weak smile. Garrus nodded, swallowing hard. She reached for his hand, squeezing it gently. "I'm sorry, Garrus. I know what I put you through."

He nodded again. "You know, Shepard, you've really got to stop risking your life for the people around you."

"Kinda comes with the job, Garrus."

"Your job is saving the galaxy - all of it. You can't do that if you get yourself killed for one turian boy."

She felt the sting of tears and fought to hold them back. _Damn drugs_. She couldn't afford the luxury of grief. Not yet. But the concern in Garrus's eyes tempted her to just give in to it, to let him comfort her.

"I couldn't watch him die, Garrus." A few tears overflowed and streaked down her cheeks. "I couldn't watch another child explode right in front of me."

Garrus blinked in confusion. "What are you talking about, Shepard? I hope you know you can talk to me."

Another surge of tears threatened at that, but she noticed Dr. Chakwas heading over, so she swallowed it down, wiping her eyes with her free hand. "We do need to talk, Garrus. We will, I promise. But later, when I get out of here, okay?" She gave him a tight smile as she reluctantly released her grip on his hand.

Chakwas stopped at her beside. "You've healed amazingly well, Commander. You'll have some lingering soreness, but that should resolve fairly quickly. There is just one other concern I'd like to discuss before I release you, something we should perhaps discuss in private."

"Garrus is my de-facto second-in-command. Anything that may affect my mission performance he should hear." Her newly appointed XO looked as surprised as she was at the words; she hadn't given it any thought, but she knew as soon as she said it that it was right.

Chakwas, on the other hand, didn't miss a beat. "Very good, Commander. This could very well affect mission performance. While running routine scans, I noticed several issues unrelated to your injuries. Your blood pressure is elevated, you've lost weight and your eyes show signs of severe strain. When was the last time you slept for more than an hour or two?" As Shepard opened her mouth to respond, she added sharply, "And no. Drug-induced recovery sleep does _not_ count."

Shepard sighed deeply. She had been sure her insomnia would sort itself out before it became an issue. "I guess since before the Reaper attack on Earth."

Garrus's sharp intake of breath made her wince. Again, Chakwas was unfazed. "I thought as much. I assume if it were a physical issue you would have come to me earlier, therefore I have to assume it is psychological." She put her hand on Shepard's shoulder and her voice softened. "If you can't talk to me, Shepard, please, talk to someone." She glanced pointedly at Garrus.

Shepard covered the doctor's hand with her own. "I will. Thank you, Karin. For everything."

Chakwas gave her shoulder a tight squeeze and smiled warmly. "Until then, here are some pills to help if you need them." She pulled a bottle of sedatives off a nearby counter and handed them to Shepard, who took them with a grimace.

"You know I hate these things."

"Yes, because you worry about how they may affect your performance. In this particular instance, however, the alternative is much worse." Shepard nodded stiffly. "Good. Now, Garrus. Do you think you can see the commander safely to her quarters?"

Garrus stood, watching with his intense hawk-like gaze as Shepard tentatively tried to stand. Her head still felt thick and she was groggy from the sedatives, but standing didn't seem too problematic. She took a few careful steps and was relieved to find that the residual ache in her side didn't interfere with her ability to walk. _Well, not too much._ She made her way to the med bay door, trailed closely by Garrus.

"And Garrus," Chakwas added. "See to it she gets some sleep."

* * *

Garrus followed her into her cabin. His charge fulfilled, he clearly wasn't sure whether to stay or leave her alone. She answered his unspoken question by hitting the door lock and wrapping her arms around him. He returned her embrace awkwardly, trying not to crush her ribcage against his heavy armor.

"I _really_ need a shower. If you'll wait, maybe we can have that talk?"

She felt him relax. "Are you sure you're up to it? Maybe you should get some rest..."

She barked a laugh. "I've been asleep for two days. Really, I feel pretty good. And after a quick shower, I'll practically be back to a hundred percent."

He pulled back gently. "I'll be here."

* * *

The pulsing hot water soothed her aching muscles and she lingered a while under the spray, just letting it sluice over her body. As she dried off, she took stock of herself in the mirror. The bruising was already mostly faded, thanks, she supposed, to copious subcutaneous infusions of medigel. She slipped on a pair of shorts and a tank top and found Garrus sitting on the couch, drumming his fingers nervously on the legs of his armor. She was almost glad for the dregs of sedative still coursing through her system; she wasn't sure she could get through this otherwise. She decided to start with the talk she'd rehearsed over and over during those long, lonely months on Earth.

"Garrus..."

Garrus had spotted her coming out of the bathroom and stood to meet her. "Shepard, I..."

Shepard noticed a look in his eyes she'd only seen there twice before: when he had shown up at her door with a bottle of wine before the suicide mission, and anytime she had driven the Mako. Trepidation.

She smiled. "Sit down, Garrus. Think I'll join you, if you don't mind." He sat back down and she sank into the soft leather beside him. She took a deep breath and leaned forward, elbows on knees.

"Garrus, I am so sorry." He started to protest, but she pressed on. "No, please, just listen. I've been waiting a long time to say this. I handled things badly between us after the relay. I knew I had to leave, and it didn't feel fair to you to talk about having a serious relationship, then maybe never see you again." She smiled wryly. "Who knows? Maybe you'd meet a nice turian girl on Palaven. I just thought it would be better to let fate decide."

"Well, Shepard, I'd say fate's come down strongly on the side of Team Us. You died, and we found each other again. We survived a suicide mission and you selflessly sending me away so you could be incarcerated indefinitely on Earth. Even the Reapers invading both our home planets couldn't keep us apart. I'd say that's pretty much a cosmic mandate." He took her hands and turned her to him. "And for the record, you've ruined me for turians. And asari, quarians, all other humans..." He was rewarded with a patented Shepard smirk.

She dropped her eyes - and gasped. She ran a finger down an ebony talon to the blunted tip. She felt her eyes welling up again._ God, I hate drugs_. Her life and countless others depended on her maintaining control.

"When did you start doing this?" she whispered as she continued stroking his hand.

"Right after the Collector base." Her shimmering eyes snapped up in surprise. "Oh, like that's any more obsessive than stocking special rations and buying a bed for a crew member who you may never see again." He dropped his mandibles in a smile.

She choked out a laugh. "You found the bed, huh?"

"Yep. It's now my second favorite place to sleep." Shepard started to grin, but it morphed into a stifled yawn. "Speaking of sleep, I do have orders from a certain doctor..."

It was now Shepard's turn at trepidation. Sleep, once a refuge from the stresses of combat and command, had now become a battle in its own right - one she lost, night after night.

Garrus felt the involuntary tightening of her grip on his hand. "Of course, those orders weren't explicit as to the timing, and she also suggested sharing whatever's bothering you with a friend. My ears may not be as comically prominent as _some_ species I could name ... but I swear I have some - two, in fact - and they're all yours. So, what's been keeping you from sleeping?" When she hesitated, he prompted, "Does it have anything to do with Toren? The turian boy on Menae?"

"Toren. Is that his name?"

Garrus nodded. She tried to gather her thoughts. She hadn't vocalized what had happened, not even in her own head. She wasn't sure she could, though she knew it was probably healthy, and might even help her start sleeping through the night. _No time like the drug-addled present_, she thought as she heard the words start spilling out of her.

"On Earth, the day the Reapers hit, Anderson and I were trying to get to the Normandy, running through ruined buildings for cover. I heard a noise and found a boy hiding in an air duct. He was so scared, Garrus. I tried to coax him out, but he was in shock. I looked away to call Anderson over, thinking maybe he could help, but when I turned back, the boy had disappeared. I didn't know how to find him. So I just left." She paused, not sure if she could continue. She did feel like she was purging something toxic, but persevering meant facing her nightmare. Garrus waited her out patiently.

Finally, she found the words. "We made it to the Normandy. And I was standing in the open loading bay, looking out at the chaos, people scrambling for escape shuttles. And I saw him. That same boy. And a Reaper was bearing down on him, but he managed to make it to a shuttle. I actually let myself feel relief, then. I thought he was safe. But ... the Reaper was too close..." She shut her eyes against the memory. "I could have saved him, Garrus. I should have grabbed him out of that air duct when I had the chance."

"And what, Shepard? Brought him aboard the Normandy? Onto the ship at the vanguard of the war?"

She shook her head, not really capable of processing reasoned arguments. "He was right there, Garrus, he was right there." The tears came then, and she had lost the will to try and stop them. She heard herself sobbing and Garrus was holding her. His armor felt cool against her sore, flushed face, and she found it strangely comforting. The cold hardness radiated strength and protection, the two things she needed most. She cried for the nameless boy on Earth, for Ashley, for all the batarians lost in the mass relay explosion, for everyone she hadn't been strong or fast enough to save, for those who were dying now and would continue to do so unless she stopped it. She cried for Kaidan, for how she had used him, not understanding how much deeper his feelings ran than her own. She cried in fear that she wasn't the hero everyone expected her to be. Finally, she cried with relief and happiness that she had found someone she trusted enough to let see her cry.

She was vaguely aware of being guided to her bed and the covers being drawn up over her. She reached out a hand toward Garrus, silently imploring him to stay, but before she could formulate the question, she was asleep.

* * *

She needn't have worried. When she woke, there he was, sprawled on the couch, eyes closed, occasionally making a faint humming noise she assumed was a snore, and which she found oddly pleasant. She padded over to her desk and started her coffeemaker, then examined the rather complicated-looking contraption sitting next to it. It was the turian equivalent of a coffeemaker, which supposedly made the turian equivalent of coffee. She had bought it on a whim the last time she was on the Citadel. She opened the canister she had purchased with it and scooped out several spoonfuls of what looked like mulch. _Smells like ass, _she thought, wrinkling her nose. She started that machine, too.

As both liquids started brewing, Garrus stirred on the couch. "Spirits, Shepard, do I smell _murin_?"

"Yeah. I think maybe I was compensating for sending you away by buying you stuff."

"You think? Not that I'm complaining, mind you."

After their drinks were ready, they sat together on the couch, sipping from their mugs.

"I can't believe you can sleep in that armor, Garrus. We seriously need to get you some hanging-around-the-ship clothes."

Garrus gave a deep, reverberating laugh. "To be fair, Shepard, you never give me much chance to pack."

She snorted into her coffee. "Granted. But we do have a requisitions officer. And it's not like we're never near a store now and then."

"Fine, I'll get some clothes. Frankly, I'm surprised you didn't have a whole wardrobe stocked and waiting for me." He managed not to spill a drop of his _murin_ when she responded with a playful shove. He took another sip. "So, about this whole second-in-command thing..."

"What about it?"

"Well... why me?"

"Why you?"

He flashed her an exasperated look. "Yes, this is an Alliance vessel, and I'm ... not human, for one thing."

"Garrus, the Normandy is my ship and I choose my executive officer. Anderson and Hackett know how valuable you are to this mission - you're honorary Alliance by now. Not to mention you're the senior crew member, and you have extensive command experience."

She put her mug down on the side table and turned to him. "Most of all, I've never trusted anyone the way I trust you. Not just to have my back in a fight, not just with my life, but with my heart, with my soul, and with my cause. No one's fought this fight with me longer, no one's believed in me longer. There's no one else I want leading this war if I fall. So the question is really, who else but you?"

He sat in stunned silence. "Remember Horizon?" she continued. He nodded. "Kaidan, who professed to have loved me, assumed immediately that I had betrayed him and the Alliance because I was working with Cerberus. Without letting me even offer an explanation, he lost his faith in me. You, on the other hand, didn't even blink on Omega when I showed up with two Cerberus operatives. You came back without hesitation - all the more amazing since you, as a non-human, have even more reason to hate Cerberus."

"They gave you back to me," he replied, matter-of-factly.

Thankfully, the drugs were out of her system, or she might have lost it again. Instead, she said quietly, "Well, they gave me back to Kaidan, too, and he didn't seem all that appreciative. You know, I think that's when I realized there was more to my feelings for you than simple attraction and admiration." She blushed and grabbed for her coffee. "Of course, those feelings had absolutely no impact on my decision." She took a large swig from her mug. "Kinda got off-topic there, huh."

He leaned in, his voice deep and rich in her ear. "I'd say you answered my question, Commander."

The months of worry and frustration came to a head at the feel of his warm breath on her skin. Quickly ridding herself of her coffee cup, she turned and kissed his neck, moaning softly at the taste of him. She felt a clawed hand run up her back, as the other buried itself in her hair. She rose onto her knees and ran her tongue along his mandible, then wrapped her lips around it, sucking gently. It was his turn to moan.

"Don't you have a ship to run?" he murmured.

He was still capable of speech. _Disappointing._ _Better work on that. _"A ship that's managed without me for two days. I think it can last - what do you think? An hour?" He huffed in disgust. "Two?"

"Better make it three. We have a lot of catching up to do." His hand slipped under the thin fabric of her shirt and caressed the tender skin of her ribs before making his way up to cup her breast. She arched into his touch, groping blindly for the clasps of his armor.

"Commander Shepard." EDI's voice pierced the silence of the cabin, breaking the spell. "You have a message on vidcom."

Shepard groaned, leaning into Garrus. "Is it urgent, EDI? I'm still, uh, recovering."

"It is from Menae. Also, Primarch Victus would like to meet with you as soon as you are able."

Garrus snickered disappointedly. "I would like to point out that this particular awkwardness was in no way a result of our interspeciality."

She disentangled herself and leaned back, closing her eyes. "I'll be right there, EDI."

_Cockblocked by my own ship. I'd like to punch that buzzkill right in the face. Too bad she's a disembodied AI._

"Oh, right, Shepard. I almost forgot. About EDI..."


	4. Rediscovery

**A/N: The following chapter contains detailed descriptions of explicit sexual acts. If you are underage, or that's just not your sort of thing, continue reading at your own risk.**

* * *

A few minutes later, she was striding into the comm room, back in full command mode. She accepted the call, and was taken aback to see Toren's small form materialize before her.

"Commander Shepard?" he piped up in a squeaky voice.

"Toren, I'm so glad to see you're all right."

"Yes, ma'am. Me too. I mean, I'm glad you're all right, too. Um, thank you for saving me."

She wished he were really there so she could hug him. In lieu of that, she gave him her broadest smile. "Um, you're very welcome."

He was quiet for a long moment. "You and Garrus are going to kill the Reapers, right?" he asked intently.

"We're certainly going to try."

He looked down nervously at his hands. "They took my mother."

Apparently, her crying jag the previous evening had broken some kind of emotional seal inside her - everything seemed to be bringing her to the brink of tears.

"Toren ... I'm so sorry. We're going to stop them. We have a plan - a weapon." _A weapon we're not sure we can build, not sure we can use if we build it, and not sure what it will do if we use it, but still ... it's a plan. _

The boy's eyes brightened. "Okay. Good." He paused briefly. "Did it hurt?"

Shepard smiled. _If only the Council had been that easy._ "Nah, not really. Just a little pressure." _No need to go into detail._

"Oh, okay." He glanced over his shoulder. "My dad wants to talk to you. Bye, Commander Shepard!" he said with a wave. He walked out of view, and Corinthus took his place.

"Commander Shepard. You have no idea what a relief it is to see you in one piece. Toren insisted on calling to thank you himself. I hope we didn't reach you at an inconvenient time. I know you're extremely busy."

_Well, I was trying_ _to _get _busy. _"It was very sweet of him to call - I'm glad I got to meet him."

"He hasn't stopped talking about you since you left. He sits in our quarters scouring the extranet for stories and vids about you and your crew. Actually, he's developed quite an obsession with humans in general. The last couple of days I've been under a barrage of questions, most of which I don't have the first clue how to answer," he said, laughing.

"Well, I'd be happy to answer any questions I can. Just have him email me."

Corinthus held up his hands. "Oh, no, Commander, I didn't mean ... You have far more important concerns."

"Believe me, General, I would welcome an email from Toren now and then." She crossed her arms and gave a tight smile. "You should see my inbox."

"I can imagine," he said sympathetically. "All right. I'll tell him that you'll answer if and when you can." He paused to take a long breath. "Shepard, thank you. First you save his life, now this. You have no idea how much this will lift his spirits. It's hard for him, being cooped up in that hut all day. I wish I hadn't had to bring him here, but after we lost his mother..." he trailed off.

"I'm just glad I was there to help. And like I said, a little friendly communication will be good for both of us."

He nodded. "Thank you for your time, Commander. My regards to Garrus."

"Of course."

The image faded as the connection was severed. She headed into the war room to look for Victus. She found him at the conference table, hunched over his datapad. He rose as she entered.

"Commander Shepard." he greeted her warmly. "Thank you for meeting with me so soon. I am sure you can't be fully recovered."

She shrugged. "Just about. In any case, the war doesn't stop for a few broken ribs," she said as they seated themselves.

"No. I guess it doesn't. I must tell you, Commander, you've caused quite the stir on Palaven. The vids of you coming to Toren's rescue are all over the extranet. That, combined with widespread feelings of solidarity with Earth over the Reaper attacks have raised turian-human relations to an all-time high." He hesitated.

"But you still need the krogan," she finished for him.

"Yes. Popular opinion aside, from a military standpoint, we have to shore up our defenses on Palaven before we can consider offering help for Earth. And for that, we need the krogan."

"That's going to be a tough sell. We'd better get our talking points straight."

* * *

Her meeting with the Primarch lasted the rest of the morning. After that, she attacked the piles of backlogged work that had accumulated while she was out of commission. When she couldn't stand the thought of looking at one more report or email, she made the rounds of the ship, checking in with everyone, making sure things had been running smoothly in her absence and letting them see she was all right.

By then, it was getting late, and she felt surprisingly drained. For a fleeting moment, she harbored the faint hope that she might actually get some real sleep that night. Her talk with Garrus had been cathartic, but somehow, she didn't think her nightmare-induced insomnia would be resolved so easily.

_Inner skeptic: 1 - Hope: 0, _she thought as she lay awake several hours later.

She had long ago given up on standard methods of overcoming sleeplessness: counting sheep, counting backward from 500 by threes, doing 50 push-ups before bed, warm milk – she'd tried them all a hundred times. Early on, they'd sometimes even worked. But no sooner would she drift off than she would find herself wide awake, heart pounding, soaked with sweat. There was no hope for sleep after that.

Her eyes fell on the bottle of pills on her nightstand. She wasn't quite desperate enough to risk that, especially since the hard-core industrial-strength sedatives had barely left her system. She would need a completely clear head to broker an alliance between the krogan and turians. _Even with a clear head, I give it slightly more chance than a naked volus in a varren pit. _But a clear, well-rested head may improve those chances to a suited volus in a varren pit, and that might just be the edge she needed. _ I mean, what could they possibly ask me to do - cure the genophage?_

Her thoughts drifted back to that morning with Garrus. She craved him more than sleep. And those few brief moments certainly hadn't helped. She suddenly felt uncomfortably warm. She kicked off her blankets. _Still hot_. She peeled off her t-shirt and underwear. That gave some temporary relief as her bare skin made contact with the cool sheets, but that didn't last long.

Her hand drifted down between her legs. Masturbation was her favorite method of curing insomnia. Even if it didn't work, it made being awake a whole lot better. During her time on Earth, it had been her only way to cope with her feelings for Garrus. She wasn't sure whether knowing he was now sleeping a mere two decks away would make this easier or harder, but she was going to find out.

Her fingers snaked their way between her folds, quickly homing in on her sensitive bud. The morning had left her aching for release and she roughly massaged her clit, imagining Garrus's rough, leathery hands roaming over her body. Her other hand came up to clutch at a breast, tugging at the hard nipple.

* * *

Garrus came awake with a start. The alerts he had set in his visor to alert him to abrupt changes in Shepard's physiology were going off, filling his view with lots of blinking red numbers. _Respiratory rate: elevated. Pulse: elevated. Heart rate: elevated. Perspiration: above normal._ All signs pointed to her suffering one of those nightmares she had told him about. He was up in a moment, pulling on his underarmor and racing for the elevator.

Perhaps if he hadn't been half-asleep, he would have thought about other situations that produced similar effects. Perhaps he wouldn't have opened her cabin door. Perhaps he would have experienced surprise at being able to open it. During the day, she left it open, to be accessible to the rest of the crew. At night, she usually locked it. Perhaps he would wonder if maybe Dr. Chakwas had requested she keep it open in case of emergency. But he was half-asleep, driven only by his concern for Shepard.

He started toward her bed, thankful for his excellent night vision. She definitely seemed in some distress, writhing around on the bed, blankets thrown off, moaning softly. He moved closer, planning to wake her, then abruptly stopped in his tracks as he caught the musky scent of her arousal and his groggy mind finally caught up. He was near enough now to see her hand working feverishly between her legs, her eyes - thankfully - closed tightly in concentration. He knew he should leave and give her her privacy, but he was captivated. When he felt his body begin to respond to the scene in front of him it snapped him fully awake. He turned as quietly as he could and began stealthily making his way back to the elevator.

* * *

_Fuck ... almost there..._ She pushed her hips faster against her hand. She was breathing hard, and maybe that was how she caught his scent, the same familiar one that had greeted her on her return to consciousness the day before. _Garrus. Is it possible to fantasize so strongly about someone that you can actually smell them?_ She opened her eyes and could just make out a shadowy form headed toward the door.

"Garrus, don't you dare leave." She'd been going for a tone of sultry command, but it came out more of an aching plea. He hesitated only a blessedly short moment before stalking over to her bed. His eyes raked over her hungrily, the thin material of his underarmor doing little to hide his desire. He quickly shed himself of it and walked around the bed to slide in beside her. Her eyes followed him, transfixed.

Given the dissimilarities between human and turian physiology, Shepard had been surprised to discover how alike the male sexual organs of both species were. Garrus was longer and thicker than the human sexual partners she had had (not that that was a statistically significant number by any means), but not uncomfortably so. The head was a touch more prominent, slightly pointed, and subtle horizontal bony ridges ran along the length of the shaft. The most noticeable difference was the lack of exposed testicles. They remained safely tucked away behind their plates to protect them from Palaven's harsher environment. (There was a popular joke that the krogans had taken the turians' collective balls during the Rebellion, accounting for the former's extra pair, but that was a joke best not told within earshot of a turian.) Not to disparage human anatomy, but she found the turian model to be a bit of an upgrade.

Not that that was the only alluring thing about him. She found his whole presence exciting. Garrus with armor was intimidating; Garrus without armor seemed downright dangerous. His predatory evolutionary ancestry was reflected in his every movement, in his lean, angular form, potent and powerful. She had always considered herself tough and strong, but lying naked next to Garrus she felt soft and vulnerable. And somehow, she found it very arousing.

They lay together in silence, still a little unsure of one another. Shepard finally made the first move, and she decided to skip the usual preliminaries. Her hunger was way beyond the appetizer stage; she needed meat. She reached out to stroke his shaft, and he let her brush her fingers lightly down its length for a moment before pulling away.

"I want to watch you."

With anyone but Garrus she would've refused. She had always considered it a very private act. But she wanted to share this with him. Well, that coupled with the fact that by this point she had reached a whole new level of sexual frustration and probably wouldn't have cared if the whole crew of the Normandy was watching, as long as she could finally get off.

Conscious of Garrus's raptor gaze following her every move, she slowly ran her hand over her breasts and down her stomach, stopping just short of its ultimate goal. He looked at her quizzically.

"You, too," she purred.

Groaning, he wrapped three clawed fingers around his cock and began working it slowly. She was still wet from her earlier ministrations and she slipped two fingers inside, moving them in and out in a steady rhythm, letting the pressure build again. She was fascinated by the sight of Garrus's cock thrusting into his tight fist. Knowing that watching her pleasure herself was driving those thrusts faster and faster was unbearably erotic. She brought her other hand into the action, rubbing her clit, her fingers now plunging in and out of her in a blur. Her hips jerked off the bed, her whole body shaking, as she came hard.

"Fuck yes!" She cried out, the tension of the day finally released. Wave after wave washed over her and she struggled to keep focused on Garrus. He was close, too, she could tell, the head of his swollen prick flushed a deep blue, straining against the friction of his hand, his eyes riveted on her.

"Shepard," he moaned softly as jets of pearly white come erupted onto the plates of his stomach.

She immediately felt the pangs of need stirring within her again. They had been apart too long for her to be fully satisfied by anything less than Garrus's cock inside her. Still weak from her orgasm, she managed to make her way to the bathroom and dampen a washcloth with warm water. She returned to Garrus and wiped the sticky fluid off of his stomach, then wrapped the cloth around his shank, gently mimicking his earlier motions. It had begun to retract slightly, but the warmth of the cloth and her soft touch caused it to stiffen again. She tossed the cloth onto the floor and knelt over Garrus's legs. Bending down, she ran her tongue around the crown, then down the underside of the shaft, flicking rapidly at the joining. Garrus's head dropped back onto the pillow, and he made a sound between a moan and a growl. She took him into her mouth, sucking first on just the tip, then lowering her head until she had as much of him as would fit. Her short hair fell forward, just brushing his sensitive waist. He pushed into her involuntarily, grabbing at the sheets. She wrapped her hand around the lower shaft, pumping, sucking and licking. The ribbing along its length teased her lips and tongue, and she felt it begin to throb and swell. Garrus struggled to a sitting position, reaching down to pull her off of him.

"Shepard..." he groaned warningly.

She longed to let him finish, to taste him, but she knew he was right. She hadn't forgotten Mordin's warnings. He had given them some pills to prevent allergic reaction, but those were long gone, lost in the shuffle of the Alliance overhaul, and she hadn't yet worked up the courage to approach Chakwas for more. Odds were she'd just get an upset stomach, but there was a small chance of anaphylactic shock, and she was not anxious for a return trip to the med bay so soon.

She reluctantly released him, giving the tip one last kiss. He pulled her into his lap so she was straddling him. He surprised her by leaning his head down to kiss her. She had never forced the kissing issue, knowing it was not customary among turians. Apparently, Garrus had been doing some research into human customs. It was certainly different from kissing a human, but no less pleasurable. His mouth plates were much more pliant and flexible than those over the rest of his body, and his tongue, thin and tapered, felt wonderful as it sparred with hers. She was a little wary of his razor-sharp teeth, but he was very careful, and as long as she kept her tongue out of their way, they weren't a problem.

He moved to her neck, nipping her gently with his plates, then dipped his head to her breasts to catch a hard nipple between them. His hand came up to softly knead the other. She gasped at the feel of his rough mouth and tongue against her breast and unconsciously pressed herself harder against him. She could feel the fiery heat of his erection between her splayed legs and she rocked her hips against it, trying to increase the pressure on her core. Garrus was forced to release her from his mouth to let out a loud groan.

She raised herself up on her knees, positioning her opening over the tip of his cock. Placing her hands on his shoulders to steady herself, she slowly sank down, enveloping him in her slick, velvety sheath, her soft hairs tickling him as she took him in to the root. She held still for a long moment, savoring the feel of him, their connection, then began rocking her hips in a measured cadence, reveling in the delicious pressure his pelvic plates put on her clit. Before long she was pistoning up and down on his shaft, grinding herself against his rigid plates on every downstroke. His ribbing massaged her inner walls, and they gripped him tighter, increasing the exquisite friction. Her breath came in short, erratic bursts. Garrus grasped her hips, supporting and guiding her movements, and she threw her head back, flushed and shimmering with a sheen of sweat, as she neared the brink of orgasm. Then it was on her, muscles spasming around him, and she collapsed against his chest, soft breasts meeting hard plates as she clutched him as hard as she could, riding out her climax.

As the capacity for coherent thought returned, so did the awareness that Garrus had not yet finished. She continued stroking her hips up and down and moved her hands to his waist, caressing his the thin band of exposed skin there. His eyes were shut tight, his expression strained.

_Maybe he needs control to be able to come,_ she thought, briefly remembering that their only other encounter had ended with her on her hands and knees.

"Take me from behind, Garrus," she whispered, expecting him to immediately flip her over and start pounding. Instead, his whole body simply froze. He opened his eyes, and looked at her helplessly. The conflict she sensed in him triggered more of the memory of what had happened the last time they were together like this. He had scratched her, the shallow cuts appearing much worse than they were, bleeding profusely the way such surface wounds did without causing much pain or real damage. She hadn't even noticed them until she'd heard him gasp. He'd apologized repeatedly, clearly agitated and guilt-ridden. She'd dabbed on some medigel and showed him how the bleeding had already stopped, how no harm had been done ... But apparently more harm had been done than she'd realized.

_I guess we all have our demons._ She rose off of him, not wanting to torture him any further and noted with concern that he was still hard. A human male experiencing a similar psychological block would have lost his erection. She was starting to feel out of her depth. There was so much about turians she still didn't know. Garrus would probably be better off with a therapist, but she was all he had right now. She just had to convince him to trust himself as she trusted him, to prove to himself that he wouldn't hurt her.

She quickly reviewed her mental to-do list: 1. Resolve centuries-old animosity between krogan and turians. 2. Fix Garrus. 3. Save galaxy. _Pretty mental, all right._ _Whatever happened to the good old days of "bring rogue spectre to justice" and "fly suicide mission into black hole at center of galaxy" - you know, the easy stuff?_

She turned to Garrus and placed a hand on his chest, trying to formulate a strategy. If this encounter could end with him satisfied and her in one piece, it would be a step in the right direction. He just needed to start building positive experiences and eventually, that single bad memory would be overwhelmed by a multitude of good ones. _Yeah, that sounds like brilliant armchair psychology_.

Garrus shook his head. "Shepard, I'm sorry..."

"Shh, Garrus. We're just taking a break. I'm not done with you yet."

His whisper was barely audible. "I'm not sure I can."

Part of her wanted to just hold him, to comfort him as he had done for her. She knew, though, that he couldn't let this fester. And it was her job to make sure he didn't give up; he had to face his fear as she had faced hers.

"I know nothing I say will help much, but you can let go with me, Garrus. I can take it." She paused, chewing at her bottom lip. There was something she could say that might help. She just hadn't planned to say it so soon. But then, it really wasn't so soon. It had been true for a long time, and he needed to hear it now.

She pulled him up so they were facing each other on their knees and looked directly into his icy blue eyes. "I love you, Garrus Vakarian." She placed a hand on the back of his neck and pulled his forehead down to touch hers.

* * *

Garrus's mind was reeling. Shepard had just told him that she loved him, erasing months of uncertainty and doubt. He should feel elated, invincible ... but he had a new worry now. His fear of hurting her again was crippling. He had been stupid enough to believe that filing the edge off his talons would make everything all right. In a practical sense, it should have. He would really have to try to hurt her now. But that image of her, hips coated in red blood - it wouldn't leave him. He'd been fine right until the end, so close, but the sight of his hands on her and the feel of her tender skin beneath them had stopped everything cold.

"You could tie my hands behind my back," he offered, trying to sound lighthearted, but sure she could hear the defeat in his voice.

She smiled. "Well, that's certainly something to keep in mind for a later time - but right now, I think I have a better idea."

With that, she lay back, pulling him down with her until he was forced to support his weight with his arms to avoid crushing her. Realization dawned, and he looked at her with surprise and gratitude in his eyes. The love and trust he saw in hers melted the anxious chill inside him, and in the next instant they grew dark with desire. He could almost hear her voice in his head: _"That's right, Vakarian. Now get out of your head and back inside me."_

He had every intention of complying with that imagined order. But first, he wanted to enjoy the feel of Shepard stretched out beneath him. He bent down to lick at her breast. Her fingers caressed the sensitive feathery-thin plates that ran down the back of his neck, and he trembled. _Guess I'm not the only one who did some research._ Her hands traveled down his sides, coming to rest at his waist, all those fingers seemingly everywhere at once. This time, her touch there had the desired effect and he had to shut his eyes against the intensity of his need. She angled her hips up in silent invitation.

He pulled back slightly and slid home with a single thrust of marksman-like precision. He would never get tired of the feel of her, that molten wetness, the way she molded herself around him, tight and yielding all at once. He started with deep, slow strokes, but his level of arousal soon demanded more. He moved faster and she rose to meet him, following his lead. Her eyes fell shut, her lips quivering. He bent his elbows, lowering himself slightly so that her breasts just grazed his chest and his lower plates contacted her at a better angle.

Her breath came in staccato gasps and her hips bucked against him. Her hands grasped at his back, pulling herself up even tighter to him. Then came the foreign, excruciating pleasure as she contracted around him again and again.

His release came then, and he had lost the will to try and stop it. He stiffened as he felt himself pulsing inside her, holding still until he was completely spent. He lowered his forehead to hers, and after a moment, she raised her head up to kiss him. Then she rolled on to her side and he settled in behind her, her hair lacing each breath with her clean, earthy scent. He noted with satisfaction that he hadn't even ripped the sheets.

He reached over and wrapped her hand in his. "I love you, too, Shepard."

* * *

Finally sated, Shepard reached down to the foot of the bed where the discarded blankets lay in a crumpled heap and pulled them up over her and Garrus, who lay nestled at her back. She felt a dull ache in her ribs from her earlier exertions. _Totally worth it._ She knew it would take time and effort to completely banish their demons, but seeing how that effort would mainly entail having lots of sex and falling asleep in each others arms, she liked their chances of success. The truth was, nothing had thus far mangaged to resist the combined force of Shepard and Vakarian, and as she lay there that night, she knew that together they would overcome those demons. Then nothing would stand in the way of their happiness but the Reapers.

She almost felt sorry for them.

She felt herself drifting off to sleep, and for the first time since leaving Earth, she didn't dread what waited on the other side of consciousness, warm and safe next to Garrus. He stirred sleepily behind her.

"Shepard?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you like pizza?"

"Huh?"


End file.
